The Achromatic Eclipse of the Psyche, part II.

[Nayt]

Offtopic: This is continued from [Unus Putesco pro Paradiso].

White. Everything white. No details, no horizon, just an endless stretch of ivory, an expanse into forever, endless--infinite like the darkness of Oblivion . . .

And yet, it was stable. Eilert Draugr would find himself there, standing on two feet, momentum carrying him as if he had been stopped in mid-run, likely to stumble to a stop. Indeed, it was stable; Draugr would be able to touch his feet upon a surface which, for all intents and purposes, should not have possessed the slightest amount of friction--let alone exist. It may well have been nothing more than a dream, but the pain was real; the pain that would expand throughout his mind and throb his brain against his skull . . . that was real, and he wasn't waking up from it, either. The brightness of the most pure example of ivory, the greatest instance of true light . . . it was almost too much for the mind and body to take at first, but one could become accustomed to it.

Some had, in fact. The endless expanse had been tainted by color before, and though it washed clean, it could be altered--it could be modified, changed . . . marks could be left, like the footprints of deep orange that Eilert left upon the "floor," if it could even be called such.

"Eilert Draugr," the familiar voice called--

The young voice belonging to the youthful student--a member of a reality he could prove false by his mismatched memories--

Tabris.

The boy's crimson eyes laid upon the orange enigma-- the educator-- the man-- what was he? Amongst scattered memories of two lives so developed yet interchangeable in only the smallest of ways, what profession could Eilert Draugr claim? Was he one man or two?

"Welcome," smiled the boy in the dress shirt and slacks, standing only feet behind Eilert, his arms folded behind his back, with the voice of an angel--an angel who knew malice through ignorance alone . . .

[Zach Kaiser]

"Unnngh."

The first thing he was aware of was the pain in his head--it was completely debilitating, and when he opened his eyes complete black was replaced with complete white, and the headache only intensified.

He covered his eyes with one arm, the other stabilizing himself on one knee. What is going on? Conflicting memories pulled at his consciousness, incompatible, impossible, and yet extremely vivid. More real than even the most lucid dream.

The pain did not fade, but slowly he managed to bear it enough to stand, though he still shielded his eyes with one arm. He only took a few scant steps before he heard a voice. It was a voice he'd heard just recently, and at the same time one he'd never heard before at all.

"Tabris...just what is this? Who are you?"

Who am I?

[Nayt]

The blinding light . . . it would seem to clear Eilert's own mind the more he became accustomed to it. The memories remained as if he had lived two separate lives, similar in ways, but so vastly different in others--and yet, as the pain started to subside, so would the confusion.

"Your name is Eilert Draugr," replied Tabris--the obvious answer, yet so meaningful.

Simply because it was true: he was Eilert Draugr in both lives; his affections and self didn't change, only his circumstances. He was a man who had experienced two lives, but he was the same man in both--in body, mind, and soul, he was the same man. Eilert Draugr was a constant.

"And this is your mind," Tabris continued, "It's clear, is it not?"

Indeed, it would be . . . by then. By that moment, when the swelling behind his eyes would have subsided enough to see as if he were standing outdoors on an average day, the endless span of ivory would feel refreshing. It would in no way make him feel younger, though. Having lived two lives, Eilert would likely feel anywhere between sixty five and one hundred years old, far too longer for a human being to feel content with. Tabris did not answer why he was here, though--or who he was, exactly . . .

[Zach Kaiser]

"Yes." Closing his eyes, he spread his arms and inhaled deeply, as though he was taking in the surroundings--even though the surroundings were entirely blank.

He understood perfectly. He was Eilert Draugr, a man who existed--like everyone else--in two worlds. In one, despite being diagnosed with what was usually considered a terminal illness at an early age, he survived and became a professor thanks to the advancement of medicine. And he lived in peace with his wife, Helena, and his friends.

And in the other, he died--no medical breakthrough was achieved, and he passed away in a hospital room, smiling, believing he'd lived as well as he'd been able, with his wife at his side. If his time on that world had ended there, he could have honestly said he had no regrets.

But fate threw him for a loop. One month after his death, with his body being held in storage (as he'd donated his body to science in his will), he woke up. It was no miracle, though, as the revived Eilert soon discovered that his beloved wife, who'd kept him strong with her support throughout the worst of his disease, could not go on without support herself. She had killed herself. Heartbroken and feeling cursed, Eilert Draugr disappeared from his home in Greoul, leaving only a missing body and stories of a ghost as evidence of his reawakening.

An Enigma, he was told--a human who died but remained alive, at the cost of a portion of their soul. Lacking directions, he accepted a remote position in the Guardians and closed himself off from the world to the best of his ability, living his days with as little thought and initiative as possible. The monotony was broken only by the occasional conversations with the two people he could consider friends, and the missions he was given while under hypnosis of a madman.

And how he was here--how and why, he did not know. Which was the real world, which was the fake? Or were they both real? He felt the full weight of both of his lives, and it made him feel far older than anyone would have guessed of his appearance.

He opened his eyes and regarded Tabris once more. He knew better now than to ask about him, or this place, or the mystery of the two worlds. Those answers would come in time if he was to know them. There was only one question he felt the need to voice for the moment.

"What happens now?"

[Nayt]

"You decide."

It was a simple decision: two routes, two paths . . .

There was distance found between Tabris and Eilert, where distance had not existed before--an instantaneous alteration of foundation, acted upon as if it had been that way all along. The albino stood with his arms by his sides and a serene smile upon his lips. It was all he could feel, and this exemplified it: the joy of a brand new path, or the joy of the same path as before?

To the albino's sides, it was as if the world progressed by years. Upon the white surface of this blank, clear mind, roots sprouted and spurt forth into individual life, greenery surrounded by limitless ivory, growing in two separate conditions. The rapid growth of a meadow to his right remained untouched; mankind did not till it, and the trees that progressively shaped about it in sporadic generation went untouched by human hands, not to be chopped by an axe for the sake of wood for warmth or paper--it was unnecessary there, between the Tigris and Euphrates . . .

But to his left, modest grass cover set upon grainless white soil, cut and trimmed, surrounded only a single image: that of the orchard tree, the apple tree. The site seemed tilled and trimmed, maintained by human hands, while no living person stood in sight. Knowledge. It stood tall and wide, with its fruit accessible for any and all to eat, dare they eat from the Tree of Knowledge. Each had their individual goals: to walk through the path of the meadow into Eden, or eat from the ripe, red apple hanging from the branch.

"Do you accept paradise, where those close to you are in bliss; each and every one of your perfect lives--and forsake the rest of the world of its current comforts? Or do you turn away from Paradise, and accept the Dystopia as it is, and as it will become on its very own?" Tabris inquired, his tone not suggestive in the least towards any possibility, "Is it self fulfillment that you desire, or the contentment of your companions? Or are you going to sacrifice their happiness--a self sacrifice for the world?"

In fact, he was perfectly amiable with either decision. Truth be told, the albino's tone of voice suggested nothing more than curiosity, but in the end it wasn't an issue that Eilert could bring down to simple curiosity. His mind was clear for a reason: to make this decision, if not for him, then for those he could claim to care for--and the rest of the world. Indeed, it was the weight of the world on one man's shoulders . . .

"What would they wish for? Would Icsorue Lahmendt want her perfect family, Tyrian Sturm his normal life as an educator, and Helena Draugr her life with you? Would they want your push for Paradise? Or would they hold you in contempt for your disregard for the world, the Paradise that every person you've never known wishes for each night, and how greatly it differs from your vision?" Tabris had only presented a rhetorical question, however, because in the end . . . "But, of course . . . it matters not what they want, now. What matters now is your desire, Eilert Draugr."

For if he were to change the world, none would notice, and if he were to leave the world as it is, there would be no forced change that anyone would notice, nor the opportunity to spread his decision around the world and let himself be a savior. There would be no one to shame or praise his decision, no matter the decision.

And though we'll never know, it poses an interesting question, does it not? For the happiness of few, would you discard the reality of the whole race? Would you change the content lives of so many to provide happiness for one, two, three, or so few more people? A fickle race we are, for three fourths of you now . . . just nodded your heads, no matter how slight . . . . . . . . . But it is not wrong, no! For to sacrifice the fickle nature of Man would be to lose empathy, compassion, and the knowledge of Good and Evil. One day before paradise--would we feel joy or contempt?

[Zach Kaiser]

"To leave such a decision in my hands...fate must have a sense of humor."

Two worlds, but he had to choose just one. What he wanted for himself didn't matter--he didn't believe he deserved to choose based on his own desires. But what would his friends desire?

Tyrian would want the world where they were Enigmas, despite the baggage that carried. He'd staked everything for that world, rejecting the notion of Silver's paradise. However painful it might be, he wanted to persevere, and believed that world was not beyond saving. Eilert didn't it was, either.

But what of Icsorue? What did she want? If he had only the knowledge of that world, he would have no idea, but his memories of the "paradise" allowed him to realize: she wanted, more than anything else, a family--particularly, a family with Sturm. That peaceful life was one she'd embrace wholeheartedly--and one that she honestly deserved, in Eilert's opinion.

Both weren't possible--could he truly put one friend's wishes over another's?

However...something bothered him. Something that seemed off about his situation, something that he would need clarified before he could make a decision.

"Silver spoke as though in order for one world to exist, the other needed to be destroyed--however, I have memories of both worlds. They both exist, and are both very real right now. What is it I'm choosing? Am I to decide the fate of the worlds, with one continuing and the other destroyed?"

Another thought struck him, one he was forced to consider--the thought that perhaps this wasn't the grand decision it was made out to be. "Or...am I merely deciding which one I, the way I am right now, exist in?"

[Nayt]

Tabris shut his eyes, his neck crooked back, and breathed in through his nose. Both realities smelled sweet, and between worlds, he could have perhaps experienced equal joys--be that the case. It was a matter of speculation, something perhaps for scholars to slave over. Just who was Tabris Arlraevous? Did he, like Eilert, exist in both worlds, possessing memories and experiences from both, regardless of the questionable nature of their mutual existence?

"Existence," replied Tabris, his head still crooked back, "Is the decision."

The Albino straitened back up, arms by his sides once more.

"Is it what you call Utopia that was real? Or the world you know as Earth?" Tabris continued, "It is but an impossible question, however! Regardless of what stands as origin and what is mere fantasy, you have experienced two realities which God could have built. They are two distinct worlds in two universes that are all the same--the same lives, the same names, but vastly different circumstances--extraordinarily different fates."

It was arbitrary which existed as origin, now. Tabris had not that answer, and if he did, he was not going to declare it so openly. No context or hints suggested that either was more real than the other; it was, in the end, the preference of Eilert himself--what he wanted to see as reality, as opposed to what was, in fact, reality. The world as he knew it, the world that the individual perceived, was more important than the world as it was--for the real world could never truly be observed without bias or fantasy.

"Did Adam foresee what was to become before he ate from the Tree of Knowledge?" He inquired--again purely rhetorical, "And if he did, would he have? The answer to the first is no--Adam had not foresight, for he knew not what it was. But you do. God has granted you the right to choose the fate of mankind. To eat from Knowledge and forsake Paradise, or to live joyously in Eden?"

Tabris opened his arms, one outstretched to the tree and the other to the meadow. It was Eilert's choice; the ambivalent Tabris could say nothing that could alter it. The truth had been laid out before him, both in what Tabris said now, and what he had declared in his speech beforehand. All that Eilert had left now was this simple, yet heavy decision . . .

[Zach Kaiser]

"Your oratory skills are indeed impressive, but what I would like is not allegory, but information," Eilert noted. But chances are he wouldn't get that--Tabris, he suspected, was like him and aware of both worlds. Were their two versions of him, or could he freely travel between them? Eilert wondered if there was another version of him--if there was, which one was he, with memories of both worlds?

He shook his head to clear the thought; intriguing though it was, no amount of speculation was going to give him answers. "So, like Adam, I am to decide, with no knowledge of the consequences...though I at least can speculate."

For many minutes after that, he remained silent, lost in thought. It was too large of a decision for one man to make, especially a man such as himself, that had never been too concerned for the world.

But decide he had to, and when he came to it, he spoke once more. "What is the difference between these worlds? By creating Earth, what does Gaia hope to accomplish? You describe it as paradise, but it is not a perfect world by any stretch fo the imagination. So, other than the obvious lack of mystical forces, what difference is there?" Eilert was now speaking rhetorically as well--in truth, he could just offer his decision with out explanation, but he felt the need to explain himself, perhaps less for Tabris and more to justify it to himself.

"The answer, I believe, is knowledge. Ignorance is bliss. I do not believe Gaia to be perfect, so it is impossible for a world created by him to be perfect. So instead, he created a world where suffering is hidden and easy to ignore. We define the borders of our own world, and in such a world the borders are small. In that world, that is the guiding rule. But what is outside our personal scope may as well not exist. The world, as they say, ends with us."

He paused, taking a breath, and at the same time swallowing his pride. "...In both worlds, I built walls, and put all the things that I did not want to face outside of it. In one world I excluded all personal issues, focusing on my task. In the other, I fled from a country that was suffering. Rather than seeking to aid it, I simply escaped. Eilert Draugr, it seems, is a sad, pathetic man, no matter which world he belongs to."

It took two lives lived for him to realize his errors. How ironic was it, that against a disease he had no hope of beating he fought every step, but he never failed to turn away from problems he could possibly solve?

"But...I do not believe ignorance is the only road to happiness. True happiness is to have knowledge, and still be satisfied. In both worlds, there were times when I had every reason to despair...but in looking to what I still had, in doing the things I was able to, I was happier than any other time."

"So...I must keep on believing in knowledge. Believing that Tyrian Sturm and Icsorue Lahmendt can find happiness, whether together or apart, even in a world where both have suffered tremendously. Believing that perhaps I can, too, be happy again despite my own losses."

As he continued, his volume grew, as he steeled his resolve.

"This 'paradise' you speak of offers nothing more than the illusion of happiness, brought by ignorance. I reject such a notion...I will continue to believe that true paradise is not a world granted by some misguided god, but a life achieved with ones own hands."

Walking with a surety unknown to the Eilert of both worlds as of late, he approached the Tree of Knowledge. It was, of course, not the real tree of legend, but just an illusion from this strange place that could reflect the mind. His mind? Tabris's? That he could not say with certainty.

"I am not Adam--I have the knowledge of sin, and I can conceive of evil. But it is not in spite of this, but because of this that I make my choice." Standing on his toes, he reached and plucked an apple from the tree. The fruit of knowledge...always within reach, even if it required effort. "To be cast from paradise, for the "sin" of knowledge."

And with that, he prepared to take a bite...

[Nayt]

Eilert's monologue only amplified the smile of Tabris Arlraevous; for a moment, he smiled not out of serenity, but out of a feeling of rapture. It was interesting how one so melancholic and internal could become the most invigorated under the correct circumstances . . .

"But as ignorance is bliss . . ." Tabris began just as Eilert plucked the apple from the Tree, trailing off once he was sure he had Eilert's attention--before Eilert had the chance to take a bite, "Knowledge is agony."

Tabris turned to face Eilert. What he had to saw was important, but it was few, and he presented very real risk that Eilert was taking with his decision:

"Rejecting Eden is never without consequences," had his tone lowered to an ominous one, he'd have sounded dark--foreboding, even, but even though his oncoming warning came with such dark undertones, his voice never dropped from serene elation, "Face the End of the World with no regret, Eilert Draugr."

And Tabris stepped back, to provide no further information or advise Eilert in any other way--if he doubted his decision, fearing that there may be reason to regret, then so be it--but Tabris had no doubt that Eilert would not sway from his decision. It was less of a warning and more of . . . prophecy.

[Zach Kaiser]

"Better to live in agony than in quiet nothingness," Eilert responded, pausing and withdrawing from the apple. Indeed, Tabris was not going to sway him.

I will not let the world end on the whims of a madman.

Without any further delays, Eilert raised the fruit of knowledge to his lips and bit down...

[Nayt]

The smiling Albino was gone as Eilert took a bite of the ripe red fruit. It wasn't an apple, it didn't taste like it. The taste was remarkable. It was different than any fruit that had ever existed before and would ever exist from then on--it tasted better than any of them. The ecstasy of a taste that this fruit brought could draw even someone as stoic as Eilert Draugr into a state of hypnosis. It was a powerful taste, beautiful, the sensation of knowing that more than half of the world would have done just as Eilert had, denying the reality that he had been shown, and accepting the reality that they knew, deep down inside, was what really mattered.

Eilert Draugr was alone for what may just as well feel like hours--but this was a timeless place, seconds, minutes, hours, and days were all meaningless measurements here--

He could wander, if he wished, walk through the expanse of ivory, standing on what looked like nothing but felt like something, a limitless surface forever flat without a slope or bump of any sort. A person could walk until the end of time, regardless of its merit as a form of measurement in this metaphorical reality, and never see the end.

That serenity only lasted so long, though . . .

The world changed, shifting dramatically, altering radically as if an earthquake were befalling it. The achromatic scenery cracked, halving, splitting down the horizon in all direction like a forced hole in a glass window. White drifted away from the edges as parting spirits, giving way to the oily blackness beyond--

All whilst the earth reformed itself. As the horizon was defined, so was the ground, now a stark gray in contrast to the pure black and pure white. It, too, could only last so long. If there was a ceiling to collapse, it would have. But still, above, only limitless ivory . . .

Pillars erected one by one, old pillars overgrown with weeds, tall enough to reach the ceiling of the sky where it could go no further, wide enough to be indestructible by any means. Each pillar shattered the gray ground with a wide space between each of them, shaking the world with each new uplifting of matter. Twelve were erected in all, standing in a wide circle before Eilert. It was only then that the world calmed. The quakes ended, the shattering ceased, and nothing further antagonized the "ground."

And yet it was then, when everything came to rest, that Eilert would find a body standing upright in the center of the circle of pillars; a man: hood over his head, coat flowing behind him, and silver stitching used for that black coat that concealed every inch of his body . . .

[Zach Kaiser]

The fruit was different than anything Eilert experienced--a taste far more exquisite than anything he'd ever experienced. Even though in one world what he ate had long since ceased to be important to him, he couldn't help but savor the taste. That the majority of the people of the world(s) would have made the same decision...he couldn't help but feel a bit vilified. He knew not how he knew that fact, but he was as sure of it as anything he'd been sure of in either of his lives.

With no knowledge of how he got there, he was back in the endless white. How long he was there he wasn't sure--he never hungered, thirsted, or tired, and no matter where he walked it was more of the same. Though questions of where he was and what he was supposed to do from there crossed his mind, there was no one to ask them to, so he simply kept walking towards the ivory horizon...

And then the peace was shattered, the ground splitting and separating as what seemed like an ocean of void expanded between the two ends, until Eilert could no longer see the other side.

When the pillars began to erupt, he was knocked off his feet. The first one sprung up somewhere relatively close to him, and once it came to rest he scrambled to it, bracing himself against the quakes. He knew not where he was or what was going on, but it seemed to be something cataclysmic. Was this somehow connected to the worlds he knew?

Twelve impossibly big pillars erupted, stretching up to the...sky? Ceiling? The white expanse above him offered no details to indicate its nature.

Shakily, he rose to his feet when it was all over. It wasn't the first time he'd experienced an earthquake, but nothing of that magnitude. But was he took in his altered surroundings he began to realize the quaking was the least of his worries, for in the center of the circle of pillars stood an all too familiar. And so he approached, unsure of what to expect at this stage, until he felt he could speak and be heard without shouting.

"I can honestly say that a lifetime without seeing you was not enough."

[Nayt]

To Eilert, no words were spoken. The man in the center, the Silver enigma, merely stared out ahead of him, his face unseen, yet Eilert would be able to feel the man's eyes upon him. Yet still, he said nothing, addressing Eilert only with a cold, heartless stare.

Silver's cloak gentle moved in a warm breeze, the first semblance of environmental feeling in the white world. For a moment, there was peace. The world had settled; everything had calmed--and rather quickly, at that. Silver, however, still said nothing. He continued to stare, though his hands twitched like no other. His right hand slowly fidgeted its way towards the rapier, but made no immediate action to draw the blade. Still, silence. Biting silence. Time in which Eilert could speak, if he so desired--but after a point, he would likely be interrupted, as after a moment, Silver's body finally took action.

The rapier was drawn. Silver held it in his right hand, the tip of the blade pointed out towards Eilert.

"Pius deus, mutuo tui fortitudo," Silver narrated, speaking for the first time in this world, calling out what sounded more like an incantation than anything else . . .

Again, it felt as if the ivory expanse were experiencing an environmental disaster. It violently rattled everywhere. Eilert could have been miles way and he'd have felt it just as strong. The world itself was altering dramatically--violently changing, yet no alteration was yet to be seen--

"Directus tui ocula, itaque exibeo omnis terra audi tui nomen:"

Yet this time, it wasn't the "earth" that changed. Before, the pillars had risen to the sky. This time it was the sky. Veins cracked through the white sky, finally giving it the detail of the sky, yet in a much less wanted manner. It was like being within a snow globe--and the glass around it was giving way. They webbed first from the peaks of the pillars and continued down into the horizon. They were wide, broken gaps which filled themselves with a dark, ominous yellow. There weren't many cracks, however, and no form of glass fell to the ground. Between this, however, was chaos. The unaffected sky was quickly tainted by darkness, with black and white consistently changing in a swirling, dynamic battle, placing itself within the sky with no regard for the barriers caused by the shattered skyline.

The blade in Silver's hand shifted and shivered, its steel frame crying. A crack ran up both sides from the hilt, spreading out into veins up and down the weapon. Chips formed with each conjunction of spiderweb veins, and the edge quickly began to fall apart, its form hastily degrading. But just as it would become nothing, with the final pieces of metal shattering and falling to the ground, it emitted a light, a light so powerful it could blind a star--a paralyzing, agonizing light; one did not even have to look into it to feel pain. It was heavy, daunting, and painful. It could bring a twenty foot giant to his knees. It could bring the world to its knees. Yet to any who may see it--to Eilert--the paralyzing, torturous sensation would accompany absolute darkness. To be blinded, even temporarily--seconds for Eilert--was to see absolute darkness.

The light of the end of the world.

The darkness of rebirth.

All creation personified.

"Gaia."

Silver's right arm, his shoulder, and half of his chest were no more, consumed in the blight of the End and the Beginning, devoured by the weapon itself--and replaced. A bloody representation of life retained the form of an arm and a shoulder and a chest, the rest of it covered by Silver's cloak, torn off only around the chest. The new limb and anatomical neighbors looked remarkably human, with no traces of blue, only red. Deep cuts lined every muscle with no pattern, and yet despite what appeared to be cuts deep into the muscles themselves--average built, at that, far from extraordinary--Silver's new arm pulsated in every muscle, as if something deep within had a mind of its own, and sought to turn each individual muscle into a body of its own.

On Silver's back, however, on his right shoulder, was the remnant of a wing, part of the new anatomy that replaced Silver's shoulder and arm. A flesh covered bone jutted out to no avail, cut off short, with remnants of black feathers left behind.

[Zach Kaiser]

There was a brief moment of peace; the world around had settled down once more, and neither Silver nor Eilert spoke. The latter was trying to gauge the former's reaction, and the former--well, he couldn't begin to guess what was going through his mind. However, that moment turned out to be only the calm before the storm.

Once more, everything seemed to plunge into chaos. The sky was torn asunder, and a flash of light made his vision go dark as Silver spoke words that were clearly not meant as conversation.

But it was the last word that caught his attention; it was perhaps that single name that, even after everything he'd learned recently, finally made him realize that, truly, this wasn't just about him and Silver, or even about Icsorue and Sturm. It really was about the fate of the world.

"Gaia? The creator himself, sealed?" There was disbelief in his voice and his eyes widened noticeably, and that much inflection from someone like Eilert was quite a reaction.

Like any good scholar of the arcane, Eilert knew what a Gaiasoul was, even they weren't his specialty. They were created by sealing souls into a container, but not just any soul could be sealed that way. It had to be a soul connected to Gaia somehow--as far as he knew, that meant it had to be more or less a god, or at least a very powerful being.

But to think that the creator himself was sealed in that way...he would have thought such a thing was impossible if he were not seeing it himself. And the way that the part of Silver affected by it pulsed with a power all its own.

I fear this is something far beyond my ability to deal with.

[Nayt]

No words were spoken to Eilert. Still, the Silver before him stood as a silent beast; poised only to destroy--yet that was no different than the Silver that Eilert knew, a being poised to destroy the old world so that a new world could take its place. That new world, however, may very well have been a far better place than the old--but it still required snuffing out the lives of billions, and leaving them absolutely no choice in the matter.

He didn't need to speak.

Silver attacked, but it was more of a flash than anything else. Cut into frames, with each frame as a fraction of a second, Silver would be gone for most of them, having already reached his target. The speed was uncanny; physically impossible, even. Silver may as well have teleported--but without even a semblance of energy transfer or personal loss of momentum or power--a monstrous ability.

The overall speed of the enemy he was dealing with would become evident in that moment, as Eilert would feel, first and foremost, a hand upon his throat--only to find Silver already there, pulsating arm quick to attempt to lift him into the air-- and then, the vast strength he was up against would be discovered: it took very little effort for Silver to throw Eilert, and had he already lifted him off the ground by the throat, he would no doubt fling the orange enigma three fourths of the way across the arena which had been erected within the world for the sake of their battle alone. Landing, at that point, with any grace would be impossible. Breaking bones was more than just plausible.

But even then, quick action would have to be taken despite any injury: Silver was quick enough to make that distance in no time at all . . .